The Art of Drowning
by DakotaCole
Summary: Dakota Ames has recently been recruited by the FBI to work as a computer analysist with the 'squints'. When Sweets notices something off about Dakota, he realizes just how far he'd go to help her. Rated M for language and violence.
1. Prelude

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones or any of the characters :/

* * *

Her stomach twisted with dread when she saw the lights were on in the apartment.

That meant _he_ was home.

The very thought of his presence terrified her.

So why didn't she ever try to get away?

She couldn't; he would hunt her down again.

He promised he would kill her if she ran.

She felt death get closer and closer with ever blow he dealt.

This wasn't love.

**Fear**.

Dakota Ames was afraid.

Her whole world was ruled by fear.

Then again, that would be _his_ fault.

She wished someone would get her out of here.

* * *

Welcome to Dakota Ames' world.

Tell me what you think.

-DC


	2. What it Means to Be Alone

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones :/

* * *

Dakota Ames held her breath when she stepped into the apartment. She could already smell the foul odor of booze, and that was never a good sign. Maybe if she was silent he wouldn't notice her as she edged her way past the kitchen where he was bound to be. Uttering a silent prayer to any higher power that would listen, she slowly opened her door.

It creaked.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?!" a voice boomed from behind her.

Dakota winced and turned around to face her assailant. He was tall, easily six feet, and had a medium build; more than enough to overpower her small frame.

Logan Strickland used to be her entire world.

It didn't use to be like this; a year ago Logan was her sweet and caring boyfriend that would never have thought of hurting her. When did he turn into a monster? Why didn't she notice that he was getting more and more controlling? Dakota mentally sighed. It was no use getting worked up now, she knew what was coming and there was no way out. Logan had threatened to kill her if she ever left him. There was no doubt in her mind that he would be true to his word.

She was trapped.

"I ASKED YOU WHERE THE FUCK YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING, DAKOTA!" he screamed, his booze breath making her nauseous. "YOU KNOW BETTER THAN TO IGNORE ME WHEN YOU COME HOME, YOU LITTLE WHORE."

"I am so sorry Logan; I didn't mean to upset you." Dakota whispered in a meek voice.

"Sorry isn't good enough you worthless piece of trash. I guess I'll just have to teach you another lesson," he growled, a sadistic smile crawling across his face.

She whimpered as he took as step closer; effectively trapping her against the wall in the hallway. The first blow was the back of his hand cracking against her cheek bone and making her face slam against the wall. Blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth. The next was a punch to the stomach and a shove to the ground. The kicks were next. This was the most dreaded part of the whole ordeal: numerous powerful kicks were delivered to her ribs and stomach while he stood over telling her exactly how worthless she really was.

"If you ever try to leave, I'll find you and kill you," he snarled.

The tears had started with the slap, but they were streaming full force now after about ten minutes of abuse. The fear was there too. The constant, sickening fear that he would take it too far and she would end up dead. The pain was agonizing and Dakota could feel the darkness coming closer. A sob escaped her when she saw Logan reach down and unbutton his jeans. Someone must have heard her prayers, because a few seconds later she fell into an all-encompassing blackness void of feeling and conscious thought.

Dakota woke up alone almost four hours later. The bastard hadn't even moved her from the rapidly growing blood pool in the hallway. Slowly, ever so slowly, she reached for her cell phone. Even that tiny movement made her want to scream because of the damage Logan had inflicted. She took a deep breath and pressed her phone to her ear.

"911, what is your emergency?" a tired voice questioned.

Dakota squeezed her aching hand into a fist; it was now or never.

"I've been assaulted and possibly raped. I need an ambulance," she said and bit back a sob.

"Is the assailant still on the premises?"

"No."

"Could you identify your attacker?"

"Please, just send an ambulance," Dakota cried.

"The ambulance is on its way ma'am. Please answer the question."

"It was Logan Strickland," she whispered. "My boyfriend."

Dakota Ames was ready to be free.

Little did she know that he kept all of his promises.

* * *

Sorry for it being short! .

I promise the next one will be longer.

-DC


End file.
